Child of Darkness
by Isabella Estates
Summary: Redemption comes with a price… [Sequel to The Prophecy.]
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** These characters (Cassie and the Circle, etc.) were originally created by L.J. Smith. They all belong to her creative genius. However, the plot of this story and a few new characters are my own creations. I'm not making any money off of this, so please don't sue me.

**A/N:** Here it is, the first chapter in the sequel to _The Prophecy_. Let me know what you think!

* * *

Diana blinked rapidly. Within a matter of seconds she had gone from standing in the rickety, old boathouse on Pier 26, to a brightly lit foyer with marble floors, a dual arching staircase, and a three story ceiling. The effect was startling. Diana placed her free hand to her chest, but she didn't have long to catch her breath.

Bastian released his grip on her other hand and stalked away, his footsteps echoing on the shiny gray marble. Diana tried to see where he was disappearing to but suddenly there was a small crowd of people around her, buzzing about and blocking her view.

"This way, madam," a short and rather rotund woman said. The older lady ushered her down a side corridor and into a doorway that was on the right.

Diana had no choice but to be led by the arm, the strange women still milling about. Once inside the room, their harried manner continued and they began to poke and prod at Diana, lifting her arms and turning her chin as if giving her a thorough inspection.

"What's going on?" Diana asked, straining to be heard over all the chatter in the busy room.

But no one paid her any attention. The women continued to hurry about, exiting the room several at a time, and returning with big bolts of fabrics and other materials. Another lady was making notes on some sort of strange colored-paper.

Before she knew it, Diana was being whisked through another doorway. It was a bathroom that could be featured in a palace. The room was almost bigger than the entire first floor of her house on Crowhaven Road. It contained a very large tub filled with warm, sudsy water and the women were already ushering her to take off her clothing and bathe.

Diana wanted to refuse, but after she hesitated for a moment, a stern looking woman stepped forward and Diana had the feeling that she would be forced to comply if she didn't cooperate. "Okay, okay. I'll do it," Diana said, as she hastily unbuttoned her shirt.

The water smelled like lilac and juniper and Diana quickly scrubbed her skin and washed her hair. With all of the bustle, Diana had not even gotten a moment to truly consider what had just taken place. But now that she had a few minutes to sit uninterrupted, the reality was setting in.

She was no longer in New Salem. She was somewhere else entirely with Bastian.

_That evil snake_.

She was far away from home and everyone that she loved. Would she ever get to see them again? Would her father be worried about her?

Tears began to flow freely down Diana's cheeks.

_But at least I saved Cassie_, she thought.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the door to the bathroom flew open and the short, round woman entered. "Time to get dressed," she said. She paid no attention to Diana's tear-streaked face.

Once again, Diana found herself being hurried. The flock of older women was back and they began drying and her hair and helping her into a white corset and hoop skirt. A beautiful gown of white satin was pulled over her head next and someone began applying make-up to her face after that.

"What is all this?" Diana asked, but no one responded. This time Diana was sure that they heard her question. The women simply chose not to answer her. Diana sighed in frustration.

A few minutes later all of the women filed out of the room, leaving Diana by herself. There were several high back chairs and one couch nearby but Diana did not sit. She was too anxious to stay in one place. Instead she began to slowly pace across the large oriental rug. There was a full-length mirror in a gilded frame on the far wall and as Diana turned her head she caught her reflection in it.

"Goddess," she murmured. Her pale hair had been pulled into an elegant chignon, emphasizing the soft curve of her neckline. The long satin gown had an A-line cut, which showed off her narrow waist, and a gorgeous cathedral length train trailed behind her.

Before Diana had a chance to wonder any further there was a brisk knock at the door and a middle-aged man with light brown hair entered. He was wearing a black tuxedo, complete with a bow tie and white gloves. He was carrying several black velvet boxes on a silver tray. He set the tray down on the only table in the room, then he turned to Diana and bowed.

"My name is Wesley," he told her. "I am at your service. Please, allow me." He opened the first of the three black boxes on the tray. It contained a diamond bracelet, which he fastened around her wrist. The next box contained a silver necklace with a large diamond pendant and Diana allowed Wesley to gently fasten it at her nape. The final box contained matching earrings.

"Congratulations, your Highness." Wesley bowed again before leaving the room.

_What?_ Diana was completely bewildered.

When the short woman entered the room again, Diana would no longer be ignored. She reached out and placed a hand on the woman's arm.

The older woman looked up at her sharply.

"What is going on? I _demand _an answer." Diana used her strictest voice, hoping it would stay steady and hide the terrible anxiety that was threatening to overwhelm her. "Where am I?"

"You're in the west wing of the castle, ma'am. We're preparing for the wedding."

"The wedding?" Diana repeated.

The woman nodded eagerly.

Suddenly, it hit her. Diana looked down at the white dress she was wearing. "I'm the—_I'm the bride_?"

"Why, yes, ma'am. You've come to marry the young master," the other woman paused, her gray eyes widening slightly. "Haven't you?"

Diana suddenly felt sick. "I will do _no such thing_!"

"But the guests have already started to arrive. People have been waiting hundreds of years for this event," explained the woman.

"Well, they can keep waiting, because I'm not _marrying _anyone!" Diana folded her arms across her chest.

The other woman gasped. "No one goes against the young master."

"We'll see about that," Diana said.

The woman scurried from the room, shaking her head nervously.

Wesley arrived moments later. He stood formally in front of Diana with his gloved hands at his side. "Prince Bastian has been notified of your refusal to proceed."

_Good_, thought Diana.

Wesley cleared his throat before continuing. "And he wishes to inform you that you agreed to be his 'completely.' If you do not marry him at the present time, then your agreement is void. You will be returned home and Prince Bastian will be more than happy to escort your friend Cassandra to the Dark Realm, where she and her soul will be parted."

Diana cried out in horror.

_No! He can't be serious! He can't do this!_

Wesley seemed impervious to her reaction. "The choice is yours. And you have exactly one minute to decide." He pulled an old fashioned pocket watch out of the vest of his tuxedo and fixed his gaze on its round face.

The seconds ticked away.

"Thirty seconds," Wesley warned. "Fifteen seconds."

_Goddess! _

"Okay!" Diana cried out. "I'll do it."

Wesley nodded once. He slipped the pocket watch back into his tuxedo before turning away.

_This can't be happening. This can't be happening!_ Diana's thoughts were racing through her head. It felt like she hadn't even been here—wherever _here_ was—for more than an hour. And now she was being forced to marry Bastian—_the Prince of Hades_—against her will!

This was _insane_! And it was all happening so fast!

Suddenly, Diana felt like she wasn't getting enough air. The room began to shift around her field of vision. She knew she was hyperventilating, but she couldn't help it.

_I'm going to pass out_, she thought. _I can't do this._

Her knees were beginning to buckle.

"Easy now," said a female voice from beside her. She could feel a warm steadying hand on her elbow. "Take deep breaths."

Diana did as she was told. After a few moments, she could feel her grip on things returning. Her heart was still racing, but she no longer was on the verge of collapse.

Diana looked up to see who had come to her aid. It was a girl with carrot-red hair and a smattering of freckles across her nose. "There now. You're ok." She smiled.

Diana had not seen this girl before. "Who are you?" she asked, incredibly grateful to see a friendly expression.

"I'm Ginger," she replied. "Don't laugh." She gestured to her hair.

"Thanks, Ginger," said Diana.

"I'm not supposed to be in here," Ginger said, "but I got a glimpse of you when I was walking by and I just had to do something."

"I won't tell," Diana told her.

"So you're the one who's marrying the Prince, huh? I heard you were pretty, but I didn't know that you were this beautiful." Ginger smiled again. "I can see why he fancies you."

"I wish he didn't," exclaimed Diana, her panic rising again. "I can't_-I can't do this_..."

"Pardon me for saying so, Miss, but I can see that you are very upset," Ginger began.

Upset was an understatement. "Terrified," Diana said.

Ginger's lips tightened into a grim line. Then she nodded. "That's to be expected, I guess. The Prince is-well, he is what he is…" Her voice trailed off.

Diana could feel the tears starting again. _Oh, Goddess, what am I going to do?_

Ginger patted her on the back gently. "But maybe he'll surprise you. His mother was an angel, you know. The real thing."

Diana scoffed and tried to wipe some of her tears away.

Bastian was no angel.

"What are you doing in here?" The short woman had returned and she snapped at Ginger with the threat of authority.

"I was just leaving, Ms. Thurston. I was only helping the lady here for a moment." Ginger let go of Diana's arm and began backing away.

"You have no place interacting with the likes of her," Ms. Thurston scolded.

"Yes, ma'am," Ginger replied, her eyes downcast.

"Please, she meant no harm," Diana said.

"Hmph." Ms. Thurston placed her hands on her hips and waited until Ginger had left the room. Then she turned to Diana. "It's time." The short woman gestured to the door.

_Oh, Goddess… Help me, please._

Diana had no idea how she managed to place one foot in front of the other. She was filled with so much dread inside that her limbs felt like they were made of lead.

But somehow she would do this. She would do this for Cassie. She had no other choice.

With that thought in mind, Diana forced herself to continue down the marble tiled corridor with Ms. Thurston leading the way. They stopped in front of two large mahogany doors.

Ms. Thurston moved off to the side and two young men, dressed in identical tuxedos with white gloves, stepped forward and opened the doors.

_For Cassie_, Diana thought, then she raised her chin defiantly. Bastian had forced her hand, but she would never be his 'completely.'

He would _never_ own her. Never.

Diana stepped through the doorway and stared straight ahead. Her usually soft green eyes were hard and fixed. She paid no attention to the hundreds of people who rose to their feet as she passed, her long gown trailing behind her on a carpet of thick burgundy velvet.

The music was harder to ignore. Faint strains of a melody that was beautiful, yet chilling, drifted through the large cathedral. And to Diana's surprise, she thought she recognized it from her father's collection of opera music.

_La Vestale?_

How odd.

Then she saw him. He was standing to the right of the altar and the priest, dressed in a black tuxedo with tails, a black shirt, and black bow tie. His white hair was combed neatly into place. And he was watching her with those midnight eyes.

Diana had never hated anyone in her entire life. Until now.

The surge of hatred rising within her was unlike anything she had ever felt before. As she stepped up to the altar she had a sudden urge to claw that handsome face to pieces.

With a great sense of dignity, she instead maintained her composure, holding her head high.

_You will never own me_, she thought.

Diana stood silently throughout the ceremony, displaying no outward emotion, and participating mechanically when required. When it came time for Bastian to put the ring on her finger, all of her thoughts flew to Adam.

She had dreamed of this moment her entire life. Marrying Adam, celebrating with the rest of the Circle, living happily ever after…

But those dreams were over now. Sooner or later, she would have to become resigned to her fate.

She would never set foot on Crowhaven Road again.

The weight of the ring jolted Diana back to the present. The fourth finger on her left hand was now saddled with an enormous, square cut rock. The diamond itself was breathtaking and as pure in color as possible. However, the ring's platinum band felt like ice against her skin.

A person appeared on her left and handed her a platinum band. She placed it on Bastian's left hand per the priest's instructions, but would not meet his dark gaze.

At the end of the ceremony, Bastian leaned forward and briefly placed his lips on hers. They were soft and cool. Diana made no move to reciprocate. They walked down the aisle together as hundreds of people clapped from the sidelines.

"I don't expect you to entertain guests on your first night here at the castle," Bastian said. His smooth voice cut through the silence in the marble hall. "So you are free to skip the reception. Ms. Thurston will show you to your chambers."

Bastian must have seen the look of disgust that passed across her features.

"I understand that you are angry," he began.

"You understand nothing!" exclaimed Diana. "I _hate_ you!"

His expression did not change. "I am the same person you befriended in New Salem. I just look different."

"The person I befriended was a _lie_. You're not Carl! You're not even human! You're evil." Diana's eyes were burning.

"Yes," said Bastian. "I suppose that's true."

"I want nothing to do with you," Diana hissed.

"Too late." Bastian leaned forward. "You _did _have a choice."

"I'd hardly call that a choice."

Bastian shrugged. "What can I say? I'm evil, remember?" Then he smiled at her, revealing a set of perfect white teeth.

Before she even knew what she was doing, Diana's hand flew toward his cheek. But Bastian was too quick for her. He caught her wrist before she was able to connect with his face.

"Don't try to fight me, Diana," he warned. "You won't win." His bottomless black eyes locked on hers, but Diana refused to look away. After a moment, he released her wrist and then motioned for Ms. Thurston. "Please show my new wife to her room."

Diana flinched at his use of the word "wife." Just the thought of it made her want to vomit. She nearly sighed with relief when Bastian stormed away, rejoining the guests in the cathedral.

* * *

The room that Ms. Thurston brought Diana to was upstairs and was lavishly furnished with a four-poster king sized bed, an intricately carved vanity with a mirror, and several high backed chairs. Diana felt incredibly tiny as she entered the ornate chamber, even with her large dress trailing behind her.

To her surprise, there were several adjoining rooms, including a bathroom and a library with floor to ceiling shelves and a wood burning fireplace. The final adjoining room was another bedroom and Diana hastily closed the door once she saw the dark bedding and masculine furniture and realized that it was probably Bastian's.

It wasn't until she spotted the silky white chemise that Ms. Thurston had set out on the bedspread that Diana realized something.

_Oh, Goddess._

Tonight was her wedding night.

* * *

Three hours later, Diana sat huddled under the thick covers of the four-poster bed. She had discarded the chemise into the bathroom trash can and had rummaged through the closet until she found the least revealing nightgown it contained. It was purple cotton with long sleeves and although Diana was burning up, she had buttoned the front all the way to the top.

Biting her fingernails was something that Diana never did, but she couldn't help but chew nervously on her fingers as she eyed the connecting door between her room and Bastian's. She knew the reception would be ending soon and that he would be heading upstairs before long.

Much to her dismay, there had not been a lock on any of the doors for the adjoining rooms. As such, Diana dragged one of the large, high-backed chairs and placed it in front of Bastian's door. She knew that it wouldn't keep him out if he wanted to get in, but she had to at least try to do something.

Every minute that passed was sheer agony for Diana. It brought her closer and closer to the moment when Bastian would arrive. _And then…_

Diana closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. Try as she might, she could not steel herself against what she knew was coming.

_Oh, Goddess, _she thought.

There was no way that she could fight him. He had told her that himself and Diana knew that it was true. But she was not going to give in without a struggle. Even if she died in the process, he wouldn't take her willingly.

As the night grew long, Diana stayed awake for hours, her fists clenched tightly against the sheets and her eyes focused on that adjoining door, anticipating the turn of its knob.

But to her infinite relief, Bastian never came.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** These characters (Cassie and the Circle, etc.) were originally created by L.J. Smith. They all belong to her creative genius. However, the plot of this story and a few new characters are my own creations. I'm not making any money off of this, so please don't sue me.

**A/N:** Sorry it's been so long since I've updated, but I've been working on my own original fiction this past year and that has taken much of my focus. If you are interested in reading some of my original stories, please let me know. If enough people are interested, I may end up self-publishing and I can send you the link. Otherwise I'll be trying to find a publisher the hard way (query letters/agents, etc.).

Shout out to all the reviewers, especially **Ellen**, who reviewed twice, trying to get my lazy butt into gear, and to **Corrupted Angel**, who is a Nick lover in need of a serious fix (I totally felt your pain). **Faefay**, who's been with this series since the old days when I had hardly any reviews, and **Mystical-Magickal-Wytch**, **Coletterby, Alecks454, Tatianna, tvdxobssessed, Rockarosalie, A, Deegee915, Danistar14, Nikkiii**, and everyone who has been waiting way too long—Thanks for sticking with me. So here's to you all. Thanks for taking the time to read and review!

* * *

"It's no use," Melanie said. "I'm not seeing anything here." She pushed a stack of old crates back against the wall of the old boathouse on pier 26. She, Laurel, Adam and Cassie had been scouring the place for clues for at least an hour.

Over one month had passed since Diana had disappeared with Bastian and they were still at square one. They had no idea how to find Diana. They didn't even really know _where_ she was. So how on Earth were they going to get her back?

They had absolutely nothing to work with. Nada.

Their lack of progress was taking a toll on everyone. The most recent Circle meetings had become tense and difficult. Everyone was upset and frustrated and more often than not, terrible arguments erupted.

Faye and Adam had screamed at each other earlier in the evening until Cassie had interrupted with an idea. She had suggested going back to the boathouse on the pier to look for signs of a portal. Bastian and Diana had gone somewhere, hadn't they? So how did they leave? Only Laurel, Melanie and Adam had volunteered to come with.

"There's got to be something here," insisted Adam. He was standing on the far side of the room, running his hands across the rotted walls. "_Anything_…"

The four of them continued to push aside crates and dust away cobwebs in the hopes of a clue, but it was fruitless.

There was nothing there. No sign of any sort of portal. It was just an old boathouse.

"Should we call it a night?" Laurel asked.

Melanie and Cassie nodded. Adam didn't say a word. He stormed out of the boathouse ahead of them and headed down the pier.

Cassie hurried after him and caught up with him at his jeep. He was already in the driver's seat, about to pull away.

"Hey, wait!" she called.

He looked up at her through the open driver's window, his stormy blue eyes intense. For a moment, neither of them said anything.

"Adam, I'm sorry…" she began. But the words sounded so inadequate.

She could feel the guilt building up inside, so heavy that it threatened to suffocate her at any moment.

_This is all my fault_.

Diana was gone. And she was responsible.

Adam let out a breath and rattled his fingers against the steering wheel.

She wanted to reach out to him-to hold him, to make things right between the two of them, but he seemed so far away.

If she tried to touch him, he might resist.

"I understand if you hate me," she said. "I know I'm the one to blame for all of this."

"I don't blame you, Cassie." He had tried to put some emotion behind his words, but they still came out sounding hollow and forced.

She stared at him.

"I don't," he insisted.

Cassie wished she believed him. She took a step back.

"See you around," he called, as he put the jeep in reverse and sped off into the night.

She watched the red tail lights disappear and then slumped against Melanie's car with a sigh.

* * *

Cassie saw the light on in the Armstrong garage as soon as Melanie pulled onto Crowhaven Road.

Nick had been curious about the portal idea, but seemed reluctant to check it out with Adam in tow. With everyone's emotions raw, Adam and Nick had been bumping heads even more than usual.

It was hard for anyone to avoid an argument these days, especially with Adam, who was completely overwrought with his emotions. So she didn't fault Nick for staying in tonight rather than helping them with their search. However, she might as well let him know that he didn't miss anything.

"Can you drop me off at Deb and Nick's?" she asked Melanie.

"Sure," Melanie yawned. She and Laurel said goodnight as they dropped her off and waved as they pulled out of the driveway.

Moments later, Cassie stepped into the dimly lit garage.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey, yourself," Nick replied. He was standing by the workbench that lined one of the concrete walls. His faded jeans and t-shirt were smudged with grease and his dark hair was ruffled.

"How's it going?" she asked. She sauntered over to the workbench and propped a hip against it.

"I've been better," he sighed, his dark eyes giving her a brief once-over. Then he paused. "I've been worse, too, I guess."

She nodded. Although it had been over a month since he had been shot, Cassie knew that hadn't healed all the way. Not that Nick would ever admit to being in pain or anything.

"I take it the pier was a bust tonight?"

"Yeah. Another completely useless idea." Her voice was bitter.

"Hey," he said, "don't be so hard on yourself. It wasn't useless. It was a shot. Better than nothing."

"Was it _really_? Because sometimes I think doing nothing might be better."

"You don't mean that."

"Yeah, actually, I do," Cassie replied, and suddenly all of her frustrations were tumbling out. "At least then I haven't failed again. That's all I do—let people down. Everything that's happened—_it's all my fault_."

"That's not true." He shook his head.

"Yes, it is. Don't you see?" she cried. "If it hadn't been for me, Diana wouldn't be missing in the first place. Logan Bainbridge wouldn't have died. You wouldn't have been shot!"

"No," Nick said. He leaned forward, grabbing her wrist and forcing her to look at him. "If it hadn't been for you, I would be dead." Those polished mahogany eyes stared into hers. "So I want you to stop."

"Stop?"

"Yeah. Stop blaming yourself. It's not your fault, so you need to stop thinking that it is." He reached out and smoothed the tears off her cheeks. "OK?"

Cassie wasn't convinced, but she nodded anyway.

One corner of Nick's mouth turned up in a smile. She looked at him curiously.

"Sorry. I think I smudged your face." He held up his grease-stained hands.

Cassie bent to gaze in the side mirror of the mustang. Sure enough there were a couple of gray streaks across her cheeks. She looked like she'd been playing in a chimney.

She couldn't help the giggle that burst out of her next, and before she knew it she was crying and laughing at the same time. Nick was laughing, too, all stoicism set aside for the moment. He handed her a clean rag and she rubbed her face with it gently. Most of it came off.

Nick took the rag and put it with his tools. He went back to tinkering with whatever contraption was on the workbench.

"Nick?"

"Hm?"

"There's something I have to ask you…" her voice trailed off.

He didn't look up, his hands busy with a screwdriver and some auto part. "Yeah?"

"That night when you—when you were shot," she stuttered, forcing the awkward words out. "You said there was something that you needed to tell me. But you never got the chance."

Nick froze, the screwdriver still in his hand. A lone muscle in his jaw tensed. He stared down at the shiny array of pieces in front of him.

The garage was silent. She could have heard a pin drop.

"What was it that you wanted to tell me?"

She was pushing him, and she knew it. But this question had haunted her for too many sleepless and troubled nights. She had to know.

Nick was quiet for so long that she had almost given up on a response. She had just turned to go away when she heard it, his voice low and hushed, practically a whisper. "You know why."

"No, actually, I don't-" she began, but he cut her off.

"I love you, damn it!"

Cassie's heart thudded heavily in her chest. _Did he just say what I think he did?_

Part of her was stunned. To hear the words out loud, coming from Nick, it was astonishing. But part of her questioned this. Hadn't she known, somewhere deep down inside, that this was the answer? Wasn't that why she so desperately wanted to hear it?

"I love every damn thing about you," Nick said, tossing the screwdriver aside, his icy façade in tatters. "You're sweet but you're tough. Your heart is in the right place, but you make mistakes. You care about people. You're smart. _You saved my life_…"

Cassie shook her head and held up a hand for him to stop. It was all too much. He made her sound so special, so good, when she knew that wasn't true. "Nick, please…"

"Yeah, I know," he sighed. "I shouldn't have even tried. You're too good for me. And you and Conant have some sort of… I don't know… but I don't win. I get it."

Cassie's eyes flooded with tears, yet again. _Nick shouldn't be talking like this._ _Can't he see? Doesn't he know what a great guy he is?_

Nick Armstrong was one hell of a catch. Any girl would be lucky to have him. And he had died saving _her_ life. She was the one who didn't deserve_ him_.

"Shut up," she said, before she could stop herself.

"What?"

"I said shut up," she repeated, as she walked up to him.

He looked down at her in bewilderment, his dark hair falling into his eyes.

"Now kiss me." Her blue eyes stared into his, willing him to react.

He opened his mouth to protest. Cassie pressed one finger to his lips and silenced him.

"Just kiss me," she said.

Cassie didn't quite know what she was thinking at that moment, but everything inside of her was aching to feel his mouth on hers.

_Just one kiss_, she thought, as his arms wrapped around her and his warm lips pressed against hers. But then all of her thoughts began to melt away and she felt herself becoming lost in the comfort that was Nick.

_Nick_. The one who always believed in her. Always took care of her. The one who died for her.

The one who loved her and only her.

Somewhere inside of her, she felt it.

_I love you, too,_ she thought.

But she couldn't say it aloud. Not yet, anyway. She was too torn; too conflicted.

There was someone else that she cared about deeply, too. She had to admit that. And it was because of her that Adam was hurting so badly right now.

The guilt and anguish she'd kept bottled up for the past month were threatening to explode. She kissed Nick harder, more passionately.

She wanted to forget. She wanted to forget everything, but Nick.

"Make love to me," she whispered.

* * *

Sunlight filtered in through the window blinds and streaked across the navy blue sheets.

Cassie blinked her eyes into focus. Then it hit her.

She wasn't at home. She and Nick had… _well_…

She could feel herself blushing when she thought about what they had done mere hours before. But they must have fallen asleep afterwards. She never meant to stay the night.

_What time is it?_

She caught sight of a digital alarm clock to her right. It was almost nine AM.

Cassie's heart pounded in her chest. She had to get out of here. What if her mother noticed she hadn't come home last night?

As quietly as she could, Cassie disentangled herself from a sleeping Nick, and hurried out of bed to find her scattered clothing. She quickly dressed and headed over to the door.

She opened it a crack and peeked out into the hall. The light was off and it was empty, with all the remaining doors closed. She breathed a quick sigh of relief.

Deborah's parents had been out late the night before. She supposed they were still sleeping off their booze. Hastily, she made her way down the old pinewood staircase, flinching every time a step creaked.

She almost sighed with relief when she reached the front hall. She was just reaching for the front doorknob when a voice cried out.

"What are you doing here?"

Cassie spun around to see Deborah's mom walking out of the living room.

"I said, what are you doing here?" Mrs. Armstrong didn't look or sound particularly happy. Years of heavy drinking had prematurely aged her face, which was wearing a harsh sneer.

Panic threatened to overwhelm Cassie. "I-I… um," her voice trailed off. She couldn't think of a single plausible excuse. Her brain was completely useless.

_What if she knows the truth? What if she knows I've been having hot, passionate sex with her nephew all night?_

_Will she tell my mother? Will she tell everyone else?_

Oh, God. She could just die. Right here. Right now. If Bastian showed up at this moment, she would have given up her soul and disappeared with him willingly.

"Relax, Mom. I thought I told you Cassie was staying the night," Deborah's voice cut in. The biker sauntered down the stairs and stood next to Cassie.

"No, Deborah. I'm pretty sure you didn't." Her mother shook her head.

"OK. So maybe I forgot to mention it." Deb shrugged her shoulders defensively.

Deborah's mom eyed Cassie yet again. "Next time, be sure to ask."

"We will," Deb groaned, as if this was a royal pain.

Both girls watched as Deborah's mom headed down the hall to the kitchen. They could hear the clinking of ice cubes into a glass and the rustling of bottles.

Mrs. Armstrong was starting earlier than usual today.

Meanwhile, Deborah was grinning at Cassie like the Cheshire Cat.

"It's not what you think," Cassie lied. It sounded weak, even to herself.

"Sure, Cassie. Whatever you say."

Deb was still grinning. And she knew damn well what had happened last night.

"Look, just promise me you won't tell anyone, alright?"

She didn't want Adam, Faye, or any of the others knowing about this. The last thing they needed was more drama in the Circle right now. And it was no one else's business anyway.

"Don't worry, your little secret is safe with me," Deborah replied.

Cassie wrenched the front door open, eager to escape Deborah's knowing eyes and gleeful smirk.

"Oh, Cassie, one last thing," the biker called.

_What now?_ Cassie thought, turning back around.

Deborah's grin was even larger than before.

"Your shirt is on backwards."


End file.
